Untitled Works
by Marzi
Summary: A collection of untitled ficlets covering various genres and 'ships.
1. Fate AR

A/N This whole 'story' is a series of unrelated untitled oneshot ficlets I've decided to archive here. The prompt for each ficlet will be at the top.

* * *

"I'd like to think you have a choice," Bill growled, bringing up his favorite argument.

"This is a choice," she tried to keep her voice level, not wanting things to escalate again.

"A choice to have no will."

Despite Laura's best intentions her tone turned sharp, exasperated. "To fulfill an important role, a choice to make a difference."

"You can make a difference, have. That doesn't mean you have to-"

"Die?" She snapped, feeling angry, wanting to end their exchange by beating him down quickly, and that was easiest done by bringing up her mortality. "Everybody dies Bill."

He clenched his fists and didn't back down. "You don't have to die on someone else's terms!"

"Just yours?" Laura taunted.

He didn't respond, turning his eyes away.

She softened her tone, hoping to move on quickly."Bill, I've accepted this-"

"No.. not your death," he took a moment after the word left his lips, steadying himself. The fact that he managed to say it kept her from interrupting. "Yes, everybody dies Laura, but don't let some dead prophet's words dictate to you when to lie down and let it happen. You've kept fighting all this time, now that we're nearing Earth, I wont let you give up."

"I'm not giving up," she protested.

"You are. Backing away from me, us. Thinking it will make it easier." Bill sounded frustrated, finally bringing his gaze back to her. "I want you holding onto everything until the end because no one knows when that is. I don't want you setting any dates because you think you're supposed to die."

Laura pursed her lips, giving herself the time to hear his words before responding. "I am going to die, soon," she chose not to notice his frown. "Wouldn't ignoring that be a lie?"

"I just want you to have hope for the future," his voice nearly cracked as he continued. "No matter how short."

"That's what Earth was."

Bill dared for a tentative smile, "look how that turned out."

A tiny giggle escaped her, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling tears prick her eyes. "We can't outrun fate."

"We don't have to," he conceded. "We just have to enjoy what we have."

"And not set death dates?"

"Exactly."


	2. RZ AU

A/N prompt 'After Zarek wins the mutiny, he must go to his wife Laura to begin negotiating with the Rebel Cylons.'

* * *

He can still recall the exact look of surprise on her face when she had stepped into her school tent to find him reading to the children. It was his ability to be more than she expected which had sparked their courtship and eventual marriage.

Tom can picture the shock on Laura's face now, except instead of turning into patient interest, he's damn sure she'll just hate him.

"Adama is dead."

Static from the basestar.

He can't say he was never jealous or suspicious of their friendship, but it had been easy to remind himself that if Laura ever took exception to him, it was because of her own reasons and not what someone else put in her ear. Adama had never successfully managed to sabotage Tom's marriage, he did that well enough on his own.

He continued the transmission. "The _Galactica_ is now under command of Felix Gaeta. Remove yourself from the core of the fleet or be fired upon."

"Mister President," through the distortion he recognized the voice as one of the model Sixes. "Your.. wife, advises against such action. We agree, and intend to keep our position."

Of course they were. Ever since the return of her cancer, Laura's politics had taken a back seat to her religious and spiritual quest. It had turned into a point of contention between the two of them, and her time aboard the _Demetrius_ with Kara Thrace certainly hadn't helped matters. What it had done was pave the way for her to be one of the few humans willing to accept the cylons and actively listen to them. It was an act that left them on opposite ends of the political field even as they shared a bed.

"Laura," Tom knew he had to choose his words carefully. "You and a delegation may shuttle over to _Galactica_ in order for negotiations to begin, but the basestar must move. You are making the fleet uneasy."

"This ship would be destroyed the moment we're clear of the civilians."

Gods it was good to hear her voice, even if she was being as impersonal as possible.

"You're the one who is making the others uneasy, cutting _Galactica_ off was not a good idea. Does the fleet even understand that your coup has taken place?"

"Laura-"

"A delegation will be sent. To _Colonial One_, to meet with the Quorom and yourself."

The Quorom. They had been considerably easier to manipulate when he sat amongst them. Now they spent much of their time trying to decide who had the true power, the first lady or the man in office. When he and Laura were divided on an issue, they tended to divide too.

"Acceptable," he responded. "Will you arrive with the delegation?"

"No."

Frak. Tom wasn't sure whether she was tormenting him with the knowledge that she would suffer without her cancer treatments, or if she was hoping he wouldn't destroy the ship as long as she was onboard.

He wasn't sure what hurt worse, the idea of Laura putting herself through pain in order to get to him; or the fact he wasn't sure he would prevent the destruction of the basestar even if she was onboard.


	3. Role switch RZ

A/N prompt 'Role switch- Laura is the "terrorist", Zarek is the politician working for the government'.

* * *

Tom was willing to admit to himself that he was intrigued, and maybe more than a little scared.

He was on his way to meet with Laura Roslin, hopefully the first of many times over the course of their negotiations.

Roslin, who had most recently been on the news after breaking through a security line and handcuffing herself to the president. Who had been tried in the past for vandalizing government property; and was rumored to be the one behind the bombing at the new pyramid stadium construction site. She had never publicly claimed credit, but had often spoken out against the project, insisting the funds go elsewhere.

Tom took a breath to try and keep himself together, letting his eyes wander around the park. He couldn't recall the last time work had allowed him to be outside at this time. For a moment he closed his eyes and just relished the feeling of the sun on his skin.

"Thomas Zarek?"

He was pleased with himself when, instead of jumping a foot in the air, he simply opened his eyes. Of course, after catching sight of the woman in front of him, standing was about all he could manage.

The press releases gave her no credit.

Two fingers clutched the collar of a jacket, slung over her shoulder; while her other hand held a pair of stylish high heeled shoes. Her blouse was deceptively see-through and her bare feet had left wet prints on the stone path behind her. She had long legs, smooth skin and hair the sun would dance with.

He grinned. "Please, call me Tom."

She smiled in return, "Laura Roslin." Without waiting for anything else she started walking, calling over her shoulder to him, "so Adar is finally taking the teachers seriously?"

"Well," Tom chuckled, quickening his step to catch up. "He may just be looking for an excuse to get you to stand next to him again. Your last photo got some attention."

Roslin raised a well-manicured eyebrow at him.

"After this meeting, how about I buy you dinner? Non-work related. You can tell me about yourself."

"I am my work. Tell me Tom, do your bosses approve of these negotiating techniques of yours?"

"They're something new. I believe you've opened my mind to alternate means of getting my job done."


	4. AR Mirror

A/N prompt 'Laura/Bill mirror'

* * *

It's almost funny she thinks, but he spends more time in front of a mirror then she does.

When he brushes his teeth (a spectacle she's sure she could sell tickets to) and when he shaves. The fact that those two things put him in front of a mirror more often than her isn't surprising. She herself is more inclined to wander out of the head, toothbrush sticking out of mouth, in order to begin digging through the day's reports. (he's told her to stop after finding a bit of foam on his desk- she hasn't)

As for the shaving, well- if she had any hair left she isn't sure she'd been too keen on removing it. (she'd never thought she'd miss prickly legs) Besides, when she had hair she could be brushing it while getting the morning report from her aide.

There is, also- of course, another reason why Bill spends more time with his reflection. He can stand to look at himself. The thin plate of glass in the head shows a man, though aged, that is still him. She isn't quite so fond of who it shows her to be.

So she ignores it in favor of something much better. (more kind, less real- hopefully more honest)

She doesn't enter the head, just stands in the doorway.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful."


	5. Laura 'a book'

A/N prompt 'Laura- a book'

* * *

It's the stupidest thing, she tries to tell herself- but the tears she's shedding wash away her internal protests.

Instead of getting up and putting it down on the counter, she clutches it tighter to her chest and tucks her feet up on the couch. The cardboard isn't sharp enough to cut, but her palms still start to burn from how tightly she clutches it.

Laura sniffs, having no intention of letting snot drip on her precious find, and carefully runs her hand over the book, dislodging a thin layer of dust. She supposes it isn't surprising that something has managed to hide under her couch for so long, but its still a shock. They'd laughed and coo'd and talked about the future when they saw it that day.

She laid her palm flat over the cover, obscuring the title: _Baby's First Book._


	6. AR 'Galactica's gym'

A/N prompt 'Laura/Bill- Galactica's gym'

* * *

"I may have.. omitted some things," Laura admitted sheepishly.

With his rapidly swelling nose, it was difficult to focus on her. Bill chose to close his eyes and grunt in response. When the icepack came in contact with his face, he cursed. He could feel her feet shifting on the mat, so he cracked open an eye to see her still smiling nervously.

Several crewmen had gathered in a loose circle around them, shocked and amused, with the late comers looking curious. Laura's gaze darted to them, hardening, and they immediately scattered. Once they were back to their own excercises, she turned to help Bill to his feet, lowering the icepack as she did so. He almost tripped on her hastily discarded boxing gloves, but her hand on his arm kept him steady.

"And what exactly," he began asking as they moved toward a bench in the gym, "have you omitted?"

Once they were seated, she pressed the icepack back to his nose. "I never took any formal lessons," Laura continued carefully, frowning at the state of his face.

Bill scowled and took the pack from her hands, causing her lay hers in a fidegty heap in her lap.

"I did get to know a boxer, though."

"Give you private lessons did he?" He growled.

Laura looked amused, a tiny smile on her lips as she reached up to take her hair down from her ponytail. "Yes," she drawled. "I was fourteen," Laura stressed, raising an eyebrow. "Nothing besides boxing ever happened."

"Must have been a good teacher," he mumbled.

Laura leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Don't sell yourself short, Bill."

"Yea, I suppose I should be glad my student knocked me on my ass the first say. Must have taught her something."

"Exactly," she laid her hand on his upper arm and squeezed.

After a moment's silence he tentatively asked, "what was his name?"

"Roy Stevens."

Bill took a moment to absorb the information. "The undefeated middle-weight champion?"


	7. Tory, Baltar

A/N No prompt for this one.

* * *

"Why did you do it?"

Tory froze.

"Why did you follow her for so long?"

_Oh_, that was what he was asking. Her momentary relief gave way to anger.

"I still follow her."

Gaius laughed, pulling himself away from her. _Go on_, it meant. _Go back and tell her what you've been doing, for how long_. Tory pulled the blanket closer to herself and didn't move back into his embrace.

"Why?" He asked again. _Why do they keep turning to her?_ was his real question.

She decided to be honest. "I saw her being sworn in."

"You were there."

"No, not then. The first time. On the day of the attacks."

"You were onboard?"

"The reporters were, one recorded a vid." Tory stopped, suddenly feeling angry for exposing something of herself. "I wasn't frakking her, if that was what you were expecting."

Gaius cringed, and she wondered if Gaeta ever regretted what he did.

She decided to dig into Baltar's guilt. "She never did anything to break my heart, so I never felt like turning away." _Until now, until.._ Pushing aside the blanket she stood and began to look for her clothes. "Not after seeing her like that."

When she didn't continue he broke into the silence "And how was our esteemed leader? Calm, cool, ready to take on our burdens?"

The spite, almost jealousy, in his voice prompted her to turn towards him.

"No."

He was surprised.

"She was terrified. What I know of her when I saw that... Dying woman at the end of the world. She was scared, but she still moved forward." She turned away from him to put on her blouse. "She led, despite her fear, an example to everyone." After pulling on her pants she started for the door. "And that's where you failed."


	8. Roslin, Changed fanon

A/N Changed Fanon- prompt 'Laura Roslin never married or had children'

* * *

Bill took the towel Laura had offered him and gently held it against his face, wondering if she would be gone once he lowered it. He doubted she would retreat, but he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. Facing the Agathons with the knowledge that their child was alive..

"He was three."

Her voice broke him out of his reverie, and Bill cautiously lowered the towel. "What?"

"My son was three when his father took him away from me."

He felt his body still, and tried to catch her eye through his mirror, but she had turned away from him.

"My husband of two years, the man I thought I loved, took my son away so that he could be with his real mother."

"Laura-"

"This isn't a justification, or a plea for sympathy," she cut him off quickly. "But I want you to know that I do know what it means to lose a child. He was not biologically mine, but I cared for him since he was two months old. His own mother too washed out on drugs to realize what she had given up."

Her voice had gotten strained, and Bill waited silently for her to collect herself.

"She cleaned up, eventually. I wanted to be happy for her, who wouldn't want that little boy to be a part of their life?" She tightened her arms around her chest. "My husband was more than accommodating, he wanted everything the way it was _supposed_ to be. I was just a stand in for a woman with a court mandate to attend rehab."

Bill clutched the edge of his sink, keeping his eyes down, wondering if she had anything else to add.

The click of her heels was dulled as she walked away across his carpet. "I assume you would like to arrange a meeting with the Agathons, please inform Tory of the time."

The next stretch of silence lasted long enough for her to reach the hatch and exit his quarters.


	9. Zarek 'Collaborators'

A/N Expanding canon- prompt 'Collaborators' for Zarek

* * *

Tom remembers his own trial.

The cameras. The cuffs. The death threats and the armored cars. The fan letters.

Hero, monster, terrorist, freedom fighter- all screamed at him with equal fervor.

Rather than try and wait out the frenzy the president had pushed for his trial to move quickly. It still had taken three years.

He thinks of the tiny number tallying what was left of humanity, and figures more people showed up outside the courthouse on the first day he appeared in public after the bombing.

He presses the pen to paper, relishing the control. Life and death, as fairly weighed as the people's tattered remains can manage, sanctioned by his hand.

He's about to relinquish this power, and for a small moment, he can't fathom why.

He thinks of the future he had planned for New Caprica. Utterly lost now, upon their return to the stars. Still, he is tempted to continue with his visions, even amidst the mess left behind from their hasty exodus. To try and wrest order into these people once again. He used to enjoy the chaos he instilled as a young man with his speeches, and his bombs. Now, he longs for something stable, and knows at that moment, he is not the chosen one to provide it.

The power is tempting, but he can't use it for his own gains at the moment.

Thinking of the frenzy that would occur should these collaborators go to trial like Laura plans, he shudders. Reality sets in, and he hands the order over quickly.

There is a mess to be made, but sometimes it is best to do it quietly.


	10. AR 'one more lap around Galactica'

A/N prompt 'one more lap around _Galactica'_.

* * *

The burst of adrenalin after being sent through the launch tube left his heart pounding, but his hands moved steady and unhurried across the controls. As the initial rush subsided, Bill felt himself settle into a familiar calm as he piloted the viper. There was no chaos of battle waiting for him out in the black, just the large expanse of some long awaited stars; and, as he turned the ship, the large, comforting bulk of _Galactica_ herself.

He took his viper down the side of the battlestar, wanting to place every inch he could see into his memory. His home, old friend and savior. She deserved so much more than he would be able to give her, the one who had carried humanity until her back and broken with their weight.

Completing his circuit, he turned the nose of ship towards the green and blue planet the remnants of the fleet orbited. Another kind of woman waited for him down there.

Bill had to resist the urge to push the throttle, lest he burn himself up in the atmosphere and never land beside her.

If he made it to such a place, Laura would probably yell at him on the Shore if he got there before her. For a moment, he was selfish, tempted by the idea to spare himself the sight of her slipping away.

Yet if _Galactica_ deserved more, so did Laura. She had cared for their souls since the end of the worlds.

All he could spare for himself was to have her at his side to watch the sun rise as his ship headed into it.


	11. RZ 'prisoner'

A/N prompt 'prisoner'

* * *

"Ow."

She cocked an eyebrow at his complaint; to which he grinned. The action made the bruises along his cheek ache. One of his eyes began to water from the pain, and Laura dabbed at the gathering moisture before turning back to cleaning the cut on his forehead.

"For someone who was in prison for twenty years, I would think you would have a higher pain tolerance."

"The complaining makes things easier."

Laura hummed.

She had one hand on his shoulder to keep herself steady as she dabbed at his face. Ever mindful when presented with opportunities, Tom placed his hands on her hips. Her eyes drifted down for a moment, and he had to remind himself not to start smiling again, lest he actually start crying. Laura stepped between his legs to get closer, and Tom tightened his grip, fervently wishing her bulky jacket was unzipped a little more and one or two of the sweaters underneath would magically vanish.

She prodded the freshly cleaned cut, ignoring her breasts proximity to his face. "This shouldn't need stitches."

"No, I think the biggest pain is going to be living with all of these bruises."

"I saved your life. Are you really complaining?"

Tom wouldn't trade the memory of Laura pressed against him and throwing him to the ground for anything. Alright, he might, but he couldn't think of anything at the moment that was worth as much as it was.

"No. In fact, next time I'm taken prisoner I'll be sure to have you with me. You might save me again."

She stepped back, and he reluctantly let go of her hips as she moved out of reach.

"If almost getting executed and planning on going to prison is your dating strategy, you might want to start rethinking some things."

"Dating?" The hopeful tone in his voice would normally make him cringe, but his excitement crushed his sense of emotional self preservation.

Laura smiled at him before walking away.

"I'll bring the handcuffs next time," Tom called after her. "Mine have padding."


	12. RZ 'you win'

A/N prompt 'you win'

* * *

Tom stared at the cards laid out on the table and grinned. Laura eyed him warily as he laid down his own hand.

"You win," he declared cheerfully.

She was immediately suspicious of his good cheer, "pay up then." His tie was hung loosely around her neck, and his trousers were hanging on her chair; while her red wrap was tied around his head like an over-sized bandanna.

Tom stood and he relished the moment of confusion on her face. Their socks and shoes had disappeared under the table some time ago. Careful not to hold her gaze so that her eyes could wander, he watched her speculate on what would go next. The cufflinks? The shirt? The undershirt? He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and waited for comprehension to dawn before he slid them off.

He held them out to her on his forefinger.

Laura took them without hesitation. "You'd better hope it doesn't get too cold, Mr. Vice President."

Tom sat, resting one ankle on the opposite knee. "I'm confident the temperature can only get warmer."

Her panties were the next round's ante.


	13. AR 'forgetting the lyrics'

A/N prompt 'forgetting the lyrics and/or tune'.

* * *

"Roll.. roll.. row? Damn it." Laura frowned down at the papers scraps and small pile of weed in her lap. They were resting on a flat sheet of plastic on her knees, and sliding ever so slightly to the left.

"Row your boat?" Bill offered, wondering when she would stop trying to remember the lyrics and remember to roll another joint. Then again, maybe if she couldn't remember the words it was a sign that they should stop. He was feeling a little hungry.

"No, no.. it's not a boat. It's about.. boat. About, boat." She giggled.

"It is about a boat?" He thought of all the times people had referred to _Galactica_ as a boat. It made him a little angry.

"No!" She shifted, and everything in her lap shifted with her. "It's something.. something about joints, and passing them."

"We can do that." They had in fact, been doing that. It had become a bit of a ritual every time he came down to the surface to meet with Baltar. Bill would go to the meeting, get frustrated with all the running in circles that happened (he did enough circling in space) and come to Laura after to relax. She kept him sane. Most of the time.

Laura stared owlishly at him a moment before directing her attention down to her lap. Despite the sluggishness of her mind, her fingers were quite swift. She kept muttering 'roll, roll' under her breath as she put the joint together, obviously still trying to remember.

"Light it up," he enthused once she was finished.

"That's it!" She exclaimed, nearly tipping the makeshift tray in her lap.

"What?"

"Roll, roll, roll your joint- light it up and.. twist.. Damn it!"


	14. Laura 'playful'

A/N Character traits, Laura, prompt was 'playful'

* * *

At first, he wondered if he'd imagined it. The barest brush of something, against his ear and hair. Perhaps a slight hiccup in the air filtering system.

Then it happened again. And again, so that he swatted absently at the air next to his head, still too preoccupied by the reports in front of him to pay the nuisance much mind.

And then something hit him in the eye and he swore. Clutching his face, and cursing again for good measure, he heard a soft giggle. Turning his head so he could see the president, he did his best to glower with his uncovered eye.

Laura seemed to find this expression even more amusing, for she leaned forward against her desk, fully laughing.

Tom opened his mouth to demand what the frak was so funny, when he noticed them, all lined up on the edge of her desk. Paper balls, no doubt ripped from the edge's of the reports she had stacked in front of her. He gawped rather than berate her, giving her enough time to recover and flick another of her creations at him.

It landed in his mouth.

For a moment she went completely still, eyes wide with surprise, obviously unbelieving that she had managed to make such a shot. He slowly lowered his hand from his eye.

Then Laura was laughing hysterically, and Tom joined in; completely unsure of how any other response was possible. It had been a spectacular and absurd piece of luck.

And then he started choking on the piece of paper now stuck under his tongue.

He should have remembered Laura in a playful mood was always dangerous.


	15. Zak, Six 'a pyramid game'

A/N prompt 'Zak Adama and Six at a pyramid game.'

* * *

At first he thought Kara had scored some primo tickets and had forgotten to tell him. Their recent argument about their nuptials had left the both of them in need of space, and he couldn't really blame her for not inviting him to a game he hadn't known he was going to. When he weaved his way closer, he could tell the woman he had spotted was most certainly not his fiance.

The perfect curl in her hair, too long to be Kara's, should have been a sign; if not the stunningly see through dress. Still, the seat beside her was empty. It was considerably closer to the arena than his own, and he was already headed in that direction...

"Hey," he threw on his most charming smile.

She turned towards him slowly, fast enough to indicate she had heard him, but slow enough to show that she wasn't keen on hearing anything else. When her eyes finally landed on him, she looked pleasantly surprised.

"Yes?"

"This seat taken?"

"It is reserved."

Zak eyed the board, the game was about to start. "But not taken," he plopped himself next to her. "I promise not to make a fuss, and you can kick me off at half time, or when your date shows up."

She looked surprised at his boldness.

"Zak Adama," he offered his hand. "If you want to report me to someone, you can give them my name."

She shook his hand, but if she said her name, the blare of the horn announcing the start of the game drowned it out.

As she didn't seem too keen on getting rid of him, he turned his focus to the players running onto the field; meaning to stay true to his word and not bother her. With his peripheral he noticed she had closed her eyes, and seemed to be absorbing the growing noise of the crowd rather than the hooting display of the pyramid players.

Odd lady, looking too fancy to be out at a semi-pro match on the weekend.

When the roar died down and her eyes strayed across the stands rather than at the formation of players, Zak couldn't help but speak. The woman sitting next to him had become more interesting than the game.

"So, where's your date?"

"He has work."

"And he let you go out on your own?" Dressed like that, he wanted to add.

"He does not need to allow me anything."

"Right, didn't mean to imply otherwise. So, is it a casual kind of thing then?" Zak wondered if her man had to pay to be seen in her company.

"I love him."

The declaration startled him, but Zak recovered, knowing he could relate. "That's great, I'm getting married myself. I never thought I'd say that, so I'm damn sure it's love."

"You aren't sure you love her?"

"I feel like she's something other. Love isn't what I feel for her, it's just a part of it. Love isn't enough for Kara."

"Not enough?" The concept seemed to perplex her beyond reason.

Zak smiled sheepishly at her confusion. "I guess I've never really tried to articulate before, but yea."

"Where is the woman who love is not enough for?"

He immediately frowned. "We're.. arguing at the moment."

"But you're getting married."

"That's what we're arguing about. I'd be happy just to sign the papers, but she wants the priest. A river too, if we can get to one that isn't polluted."

"Honoring her faith must be very important to her."

"Yea, it is. I suppose that's one of the things I love about her." He could feel 'that stupid ass grin' as his brother called it, stretching across his face. Zak couldn't even talk about the little things of Kara's, even when they were causing tension between, without him being happy.

"Faith is very important."

Before Zak could come up with a response to her statement, she stood. There was a grumble from those around them as she blocked the view, but she ignored them and focused on him.

"You are very happy."

It hadn't been a question, but it seemed very important that he answer. "Yea, I am."

"You are alive."

She walked out into the aisle, and Zak lost sight of her when the crowd jumped up when somebody scored.


	16. Laura, Caprica 'sickbay'

A/N prompt 'Laura and Six in sickbay'

* * *

"Are you alive?"

The question had passed her lips so many times, yet Caprica had never had to hear it. She had never considered what it would mean to have to answer it. Other words were thrown at her more frequently.

Was she human, did she have a conscience, a soul.

No one had ever questioned if she was alive.

If they had always assumed, did that make it so?

Laura Roslin did not seem to be truly asking her, though. In fact, she seemed to be rather angrily asking herself.

"Are you dying?" The president huffed. "How long do you have to frakking live."

Caprica stayed quiet, unsure of why she had been brought, she decided it was best not to ask. Her fingers toyed with the link of the cuffs at her wrists, but she kept her eyes on the woman before her.

The president was pale, and the darkness of her hair made her appear more sallow skinned that she really was. An IV was taped to her hand, and Caprica knew the liquid dripping into her veins was poison.

A disease that could consume you from the inside, whose only combatant was something that would also slowly kill the host.

She curled her hands in her lap, wondering why a species that could be so brutal to their ill would consider themselves the ones with souls.

"You could break those easily."

Caprica jerked her focus to Roslin's face, surprised at suddenly being so directly addressed.

"I've seen one of you do it in the past," the older woman continued.

"I am shackled for a reason."

"Their peace of mind," she waved the hand that wasn't taped towards the security team silhouetted outside the curtain around her bed. "Do you think not breaking them will make them trust you?"

"I have no reason to."

"You don't, do you?"

Caprica got the impression they hadn't really been discussing the handcuffs.

"What do you have to break?" She found herself asking. Maybe questioning would help her through the metaphor.

"I can't break. There's nothing else to hold me."

Caprica turned her eyes down, not from shame; but because she did not think the president would accept her condolences about not being able receive a new body over her ailing one.


	17. Laura 'flying anything successfully'

A/N prompt 'Laura, flying anything successfully'

* * *

The wind pulled at her hair, and having gone too long without the sensation, Laura didn't feel the urge to pull it back out of the way. The loose strands buffeted against her face, but it didn't stop her from smiling at the group of enraptured students.

She tightened her grip on the string in her hand, "does everyone remember what to do?"

Once they finished nodding she gave the signal and the mass of children start to run. Bright colors jumped and soared into the air, joining her kite as it flew on the New Caprican winds.


	18. Baltar 'AU'

A/N prompt 'Gaius Baltar, alternate universe'

* * *

He used to huddle under his blankets at night, headphones clamped tightly over his ears, lips moving slowly in an attempt to capture the speaker's voice. The vowels never seemed to fit right, and eventually his father found the tape and smashed it. There was supposed to be a feeling of pride for where he was from (he never found it, just a slow festering wound of resentment).

In an effort to capture something, make himself different- somehow- he dedicated more of his time to working on the heavy equipment. Some days, his hands seemed cleverer than his head- at least, that's what his mother used to say (he stopped trying to explain the idiocy of that statement when she fell ill). Broken things came to life under his hands, ran better- if he had the spare parts, always looked better.

Then a worn belt snapped in his latest project and he lost three fingers, along with his ability to do anything more than slowly work the machines he used to build. (any part of him that might have been healing was torn open again)

Eventually he sequestered himself to scribbling in the books while his father worked the land with younger, whole hands. Just another broken piece of machinery to be replaced. This wasn't to be fixed, and no one else had the skill to try.

When the first clouds appeared on the horizon, he stood with the others on the porch and watched the sky darken. Cylons, the wireless said, before nothing but static came through.

Gaius figured they weren't too happy about where they came from either.

He smiled. This was a good way to erase history.


	19. Gen, Alt time for fleet arrival

A/N Oneshot; prompt was 'fleet lands on Earth in a different time period'

* * *

"We shouldn't interfere."

"Why?" Saul snapped, "so they can resent us later?"

Bill shifted uneasily. Truth be told, he wanted to. If there was something to bring to these people, knowing that death was not the solution to those who were different was it. It certainly was a lesson to be learned before they got their hands on dangerous technology.

"It's in the treaty, no interference, we aren't Gods to control these peoples fates."

"We aren't gods," Saul agreed, "we're frakking human beings."

Bill stared across the table at his oldest friend.

The Colonel stood straighter under the scrutiny. "And those who aren't still got a better idea of right and wrong, an actual conscience; unlike that man."

Bill stared down at his hands, brushing his thumb over the empty space on his ring finger, the skin paler than the rest of the hand. "Call Lee. Inform him that if Romo Lampkin cannot broker a peace with Adolf Hitler, our military is moving into Germany."


End file.
